


Truth or Dare

by embroiderama



Series: Truth 'Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 23:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embroiderama/pseuds/embroiderama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff issues a dare, Jensen asks for the truth, then they abuse Jeff's couch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth or Dare

Jensen pulled his car up outside the house and let it idle for a minute before turning off the engine. Possibly there was no reason to be nervous. He could have misunderstood, but he really didn’t think he had. He’d been on the receiving end of appraising glances enough times in his life to know what those looks meant. And the smoky heat in that voice…

He didn’t think he’d misunderstood.

“Why don’t you drop by and visit me next time you’re in LA,” Jeff had growled into his ear between takes the last time he was up in Vancouver shooting scenes. “We could have a good time.”

Jensen could feel his eyes go wide, a blush rising behind the layer of makeup, but he turned it into a friendly grin. “Sure, maybe. We’re scheduled to show up at some awards thing in a couple weeks.”

“Hmmm,” Jeff had hummed, the vibration resonating in Jensen’s head. “Dress-up day for you boys?”

“Nah,” Jensen smirked. “Just the Teen Choice thing. We can wear pretty much whatever. I could wear what I’ve got on now.”

Jeff ran an appraising eye from head to toe and then quirked an eyebrow up, a hint of mockery in his hooded gaze. “You think your stylist would let you get away with those dirty-ass boots?”

“What? You don’t think I can do what I want?”

“I dare you.”

And suddenly Jensen realized that they really were flirting here. From behind the light mockery of Jeff’s words, Jensen felt heat and a teasing kind of promise. Or was it a threat?

They had finished with the John Winchester scenes, and Jeff had got on a plane back to LA, and Jensen tried to put the conversation out of his mind. Not like there weren’t plenty of distractions, with a busy shooting schedule, new stunts to prepare for, Jared running around like a crazy monkey. Still, that voice echoed around the back of his mind in quiet moments. _I dare you._

He screwed a co-star, a pretty 20-year-old with long legs and truly supernatural breasts, and while he held her against the wall all he could hear was her breath in his ear and his own heartbeat, and there was a kind of peace in that. But then they toppled over onto the couch, and she sat up, pulling on her panties, and that low, laughing promise came back to him, reverberating in the part of him that still felt empty.

A couple of weeks later, before heading home to pack for his flight to LA, he grabbed the muddy boots he’d been wearing on-set out of the costume trailer and stuffed them into a plastic bag, not letting himself think too much about plans, dares, or promises. When the stylist in LA handed him a pair of slick black loafers, he just smiled and thanked her, but he never even took them out of the box.

It was a matter of honor, that was all. A dare’s a dare, and he couldn’t let Jeff think he was too much of a fancy metrosexual to wear what he wanted. And if he had a text message stored in his phone with Jeff’s address on it, that didn’t mean anything either.

The awards were loud, if nothing else, and distracting. The cameras, and the music, and the high-pitched laughter of way too many girls drowned out the uncertainties in his head. Jared came, along with Sandy, grabbing onto him with his one non-gimpy hand and inviting him to a post-awards party.

“Yeah, maybe,” he said, turning away from Jared’s questioning look and smiling for another camera. When the awards ended, he ducked through the crowd, keeping away from Jared because he knew he couldn’t deal with the party.

And still he kept hearing Jeff’s low rumbled “I dare you” scraping across his nerves, and he knew it was now or never, and from the racing of his heart he knew that never just wasn’t going to work for him. He climbed into the silence of his car and, with a hand that shook only slightly, pulled out his cell phone and scrolled down to Jeff’s name. As it rang, he thought if would be just his luck for the man to be out, to have his phone off, whatever, but then Jeff picked up, the smoke of his voice curling through Jensen’s stomach even over the phone.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Hi, Jeff. It’s me. Uh, Jensen.” Wow, smooth one, smart guy, he thought.

“Yeah, I kind of got that. The wonders of caller ID.” Droll, laughing at him just a little. But not too much.

“Yeah. I just thought I’d call and see if you were busy, take the chance…” He trailed off, unsure of what to say, now that he had Jeff on the phone.

“Take a chance?” The reply was low, quiet. Encouraging.

“That you might be home. Up for hanging out. Whatever.”

“You know where I live?”

“Yeah, I’ve got the address.”

“Come on over then.” Jeff hung up, and Jensen put the phone back in his pocket and put the car in gear, heading towards the highway.

Half an hour later, sitting outside Jeff’s house, he realized that he had no clue what was going to happen. For all he knew, Jeff could be hanging out with half a dozen people already, just wanting Jensen to come by and watch the game. He could even want to talk about the next month’s shooting schedule, though Jensen kind of doubted that. He flashed again on the promise and threat twining in Jeff’s warm sleepy eyes, and with a jerk he yanked his keys out of the ignition and pushed himself up and out of the car.

As he walked up to Jeff’s door, he felt the thick heat of the evening replace the chill from the a/c in his car. Felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple, though he wasn’t sure the weather was to blame. He rang the doorbell and looked down at his shoes, the dirty shit-kickers that got him into this situation in the first place.

Then the door opened, and Jensen found himself looking at Jeff’s bare feet. He looked up, past the well-worn jeans and t-shirt, to Jeff’s face, which was unshaven and wearing a slightly cocky smile that made Jensen’s stomach twist up into a knot of anticipation. “Hey. Took you long enough.”

“Aw, you know, traffic’s a disaster.”

Jeff stepped back and let Jensen inside, then closed the door before replying. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Um…”

“Relax, man. It’s cool.” Jeff swept an idle gaze down Jensen’s body, grinning when he saw the dirty boots. “I see you took me up on my dare.”

“Yeah.” Jensen looked down at the boots in question, thinking for a moment that this was the point where he could say, ‘Okay, see ya,’ and head off to find Jared, but he’d worn the boots. He’d driven all the way over here. Now or never. “Guess it’s my turn now.”

“What are you going to dare me to do? Go running around outside in my underwear?”

What the--? Jensen closed his eyes, trying not to imagine that. Failing, damn it. He shook off the distraction and opened his eyes. “No.” Jensen looked straight into Jeff’s eyes and felt his mouth twitch into a nervous smile. “I pick truth.”

“The truth?” Jeff’s voice dipped impossibly lower. “The truth is that I’ve wanted to fuck your mouth since the first time I saw you in casting.”

Jensen realized his mouth had dropped open, and he shut it with a snap and swallowed thickly.

“Yeah,” Jeff growled softly, “something like that.”

Jensen felt his breath catch in his throat as this--this crazy possibility he hadn’t even wanted to admit existed became real in front of him. “Uh. Shit.”

“Aw, come on now, you can stop looking at me like a scared virgin. You want to play some pool instead, that’s fine, too. Hey, you want a beer or something?”

“Yeah, that’d be good.”

Jeff walked toward the back of the house, and Jensen took the opportunity to sit down on the couch. He sat back and tried to look casual, but his heart was still racing in his chest, and everything felt bright and strange. The cold beer Jeff handed him a minute later felt good in his hand and even better on his throat.

“I’m thinking, though,” Jeff continued, as though the conversation had never broken off. “You came here. You asked for the truth. I’m pretty sure you could have gone out tonight with Jared and the rest of the crowd, so there must be something you want here.”

Jensen forced himself to breathe, feeling the room shiver and sway around him, and he nodded. “I want to know the truth. About me. And I want--“ He closed his eyes so that he didn’t have to see Jeff’s face when he said it.

“What?” Soft voice. A dip in the sofa cushion next to him.

“You. I want you.”

When he felt lips against his he sighed, feeling something inside himself, something that had been too tight for too long, relaxing. Jeff’s lips were strong and a little chapped but gentle, and as his tongue pushed into Jensen’s mouth, he tasted beer and toothpaste. Jensen pulled away just long enough for a quick, gasping breath and opened his eyes to an up-close view of tanned skin and hazel eyes.

He slid a hand up into Jeff’s hair and pulled him back in for another kiss, exploring with his own tongue this time, so caught up in the feel of this mouth--larger than he was used to, rougher tongue, the alien touch of a beard against his cheek--that he didn’t realize Jeff was unbuttoning his shirt until he felt it sliding over his shoulders, the cool air of the room prickling on his overheated skin.

He pulled away, panting. “Oh. Oh my God. I--“ Just kissing, and he already felt so far over his head. Drowning in this and not caring. Jeff’s hands smoothed over Jensen’s shoulders as he pushed his shirt down, and the large, warm hands on his bare skin felt like a blessing. Then the shirt cuff caught on his watch, and why did he have to pick such a huge watch to wear today?

He yanked the watch and the shirt off. Not caring. He started to tug his chain off, but Jeff stopped him. “No, leave it.”

“You like it?”

“Oh, yeah,” he breathed in Jensen’s ear, and Jensen felt his jeans get tighter, reached down to give himself a little more room. “You want me to help you with that?”

“God. Yeah.” And he did, more than he ever could have imagined.

Jeff reached down to undo the button, and as the heel of his hand brushed up against the zipper Jensen gasped, arching against the back of the sofa as pleasure flashed through him and his heart started to race again, though not from nerves. Not this time. Jensen closed his eyes and heard the teeth of the zipper parting.

“Lift up.”

He pressed his feet into the floor to lift his butt up, and Jeff yanked his jeans and underwear down in one movement, leaving him abruptly naked. More than naked. Unclothed, with his pants around his ankles, cuffs trapped by his boots. Exposed. Sprawled on the couch with Jeff, fully dressed, crouched in front of him.

He didn’t think he’d ever been so hard in his life.

Jeff’s heavy-lidded gaze slid up him, and he grinned at Jensen. “Jesus, your eyes are so fucking green right now.”

“Please,” Jensen whispered. He felt so exposed, and so hungry, and he needed something, whatever Jeff could give him, more than he’d ever needed anything before. “Please.”

A thrill raced across his nerves as Jeff knelt on the floor, then leaned over and took the head of Jensen’s cock into his mouth. “Oh. Oooooh.” And then words of any kind failed him as the heat enveloping him became sucking pressure, gentle, then growing in strength. The soft fabric of Jeff’s t-shirt rubbing over his knees, and the tickling flick of beard hair against the sensitive skin of his thighs. Too much. Unbearable. Necessary.

And then when Jeff’s warm, wide hands opened his thighs, he shoved his ass up off the couch, pushing deeper into the perfect heat of his mouth, the rough ridges at the top of his pallet.

He grasped the fabric of the couch cushions on either side of him, mangling them with his hands. Jeff sucked, hummed a little around his cock, and that, the feeling of that voice around him and inside of him sent him over the edge, sobbing out his orgasm as Jeff continued to suck and suck, more gently now, licking him clean. Jensen let his head flop back against the couch and stared at the ceiling, trying to get a steady breath before his lungs forgot the trick.

“Shhh.” Jeff’s hands rubbed up his thighs like a slow massage, skimming over his electrified skin against the grain of his hair and then back to his knees. The gentle cadence of the movement helped him relax and breathe, and as soon as his lungs stopped feeling so greedy he bent forward to catch Jeff’s head between his hands and kissed him.

The taste of his own come in Jeff’s mouth was a shock, but he was learning so many things about himself tonight that it seemed almost fitting to learn his own taste from another man’s mouth. “Thank you,” he whispered into Jeff’s cheek.

“’Please,’ ‘thank you.’ You’re too polite.”

“That’s the way my mama raised me.” But his mother was the last thing he wanted to think about right now, with his pants around his ankles. Something must have shown on his face because Jeff frowned and leaned back a little.

“You okay? You want to--“

“No, I just--“ He reached down to his jeans, and Jeff stood up like he was expecting Jensen to pull up his jeans and leave, but Jensen didn’t want to leave. He unlaced his boots and tugged them off, followed by his jeans and socks, and stood up, naked save for his chain and bracelets.

He thought for a second about what people back home would say. Those old voices told him that he ought to be ashamed of himself; that he should take off, maybe punch somebody in the face. Then he told those old voices to go jump off a cliff, and he reached out for the waistband of Jeff’s jeans to pull him back into his space.

“You said you wanted my mouth.”

Jeff’s mouth curved into a slow smile, and eyelids dipped down, his eyes more heavy-lidded than ever. “Yes, I did.”

Jensen licked his lips, feeling more confident now. Working it a little, enjoying Jeff’s audible gasp for air. “I want to do that, too.”

“Oh,” Jeff replied, a little breathily. “That’s super.”

Jensen put his hands on Jeff’s waist and pushed his hands up under his t-shirt, enjoying the feeling of his slim waist giving way to his broad chest. Not the kind of chest he’d ever felt up under a shirt before, but wonderful and warm with the smooth texture giving way to rough hair. He pushed the shirt up and tugged it off once Jeff raised his arms.

Wow. He’d known Jeff was broader than him, but without the mask of a shirt he now realized it viscerally. He thought that maybe he should be intimidated--none of the women he’d been with had been nearly his size, much less larger--but instead it was an odd comfort. This man could take his weight and his strength and sometimes, sometimes he wouldn’t have to be careful.

He’d never imagined what a gift that could be.

He undid Jeff’s fly, and the soft, loose jeans slid down his legs, revealing his half-hard cock and heavy balls hanging below. Jensen gasped. Whoa.

“You don’t go commando on set, do you?”

“Just when I’m expecting guests,” he murmured, staring at Jensen with heat in his eyes and stepping his bare feet out of his jeans.

But just the thought of Jeff close-to-exposed like that on the set, and Jensen was getting hard again. He remembered filming the finale last season, himself against the wall, Jeff’s voice in his ear, his cock straining against his pants, and he dropped to his knees in front of Jeff. “Okay?”

“Mmmm, the sight of you on your knees,” Jeff hummed. “You’re fucking gorgeous, boy. But not like that, not his time.”

Jensen’s breath stuttered at “not this time,” and he allowed himself to be drawn to his feet and pulled over to the couch. He watched Jeff recline along the length of the cushions, his head propped up on the pillow at one end.

“C’mere,” he growled, and pulled Jensen over to kneel above him, knees bracketing Jeff’s thighs, hands splayed over Jeff’s chest. “Yeah, that’s good.”

Jensen could tell the angle was better than it would have been on his knees. The sight of Jeff’s cock, long and wide and hardening in front of him, was a little overwhelming. Hell, a lot overwhelming when he thought about taking it inside his mouth, but he still felt relaxed and loose from coming in Jeff’s mouth, and even this felt possible.

He settled his knees more firmly into the cushion and rubbed his hands over Jeff’s chest again. Strangely, he felt like he couldn’t get enough of that; that broad expanse of skin under his palms, wiry hairs rough under his thumbs. Jeff’s moaned low in his throat, and Jensen felt the vibration through his hands where they skated over Jeff’s ribs. With a grin at Jeff’s slitted-eye gaze, Jensen bent down and licked Jeff’s cock from the base to the tip. It tasted earthy and a little salty but not bad, and when Jeff shuddered and grew fully hard beneath him, Jensen knew it wasn’t bad at all. He slid one hand to brace himself on Jeff’s waist and wrapped the other hand around the base of Jeff’s cock, tightening it a little the way he liked for himself, and with a deep breath he opened his mouth and let the head slide in over his tongue.

“Oh, Jesus,” Jeff moaned, and Jensen flicked his tongue over the head, pumping his hand up to meet his lips. Jeff shuddered and rocked his hips up at that, so Jensen did it again, finding Jeff’s rhythm, moving with him. Moving over him. Holding onto him with his knees and his hands and his mouth, and his eyes, and it felt so right.

Jeff panted, almost coughing, as he thrust up into Jensen’s mouth, and Jensen gagged a little, then jerked his mouth open wider when he felt his teeth graze Jeff and heard Jeff hiss at the same time. He pulled away long enough to gasp out, “Sorry,” but Jeff just groaned, “Keep going. God.”

He licked his lips and sucked Jeff’s cock back inside his mouth, being more careful this time, enjoying the slick feeling of the delicate skin on his tongue. He felt Jeff’s ribcage heaving under his right hand, and he matched that rhythm with his left hand, jacking up and down the shaft. He felt the balls draw up under the heel of his hand and quickly moved, sliding his mouth down the side of Jeff’s cock, playing with his tongue there while his hand slid up to cup the head. He flicked his thumb over the head once, again, feeling the new moisture there make the movement easier, and then with a low, hoarse shout Jeff came, spilling over Jensen’s hand.

Jensen couldn’t take his eyes off it, Jeff’s cock coming and softening in his hand. He pulled his right hand away from Jeff’s chest and, bending his head to balance himself, he took his own cock in hand jerked himself off roughly once, twice, and shit, shit, he was coming again, on Jeff’s flat stomach this time. He saw his semen mixing with Jeff’s and everything went blurry as he hung his head, trying to breathe again.

He felt Jeff’s hand cupping the back of his head, fingers moving through the hair at his neck. “Jen. Jen,” he panted, and Jensen blearily thought the nickname had never sounded so good. He watched as Jeff reached down to grab his own t-shirt and then swabbed off the mess on his stomach before throwing the shirt back to the floor.

“I should pick my stuff up,” Jensen mumbled, feeling his brain slowing down, his muscles all pleasantly tired. He looked down at the carpet, frowning as he saw small clumps of dirt on the carpet next to his boots. “Your carpet. I’m sorry.”

“Relax. The cleaning lady would have my ass if she found half of British Columbia there on the carpet, but we can take care of it tomorrow.”

Jensen’s eyes slid closed, but he blinked them open, feeling like he really ought to do something, go somewhere. “You sure?”

“Come on,” Jeff whispered, moving his hand to pull at Jensen’s shoulder until Jensen was stretched out on top of him, their chests pressed together, their legs entwined down the length of the sofa. Jensen felt exhaustion sweep over him as Jeff’s arms reached across his back and held him, cradled him in warmth and truth and the calming rhythm of breath. He slept.


End file.
